


Unilateral

by MiraiLenKun



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Angst, Angst and Romance, Cardverse, F/M, Female Mexico - Freeform, M/M, Mexico is the Ace of Spades, Nobody has what they want, One-Sided America/England (Hetalia), One-Sided America/Mexico, One-Sided Attraction, One-Sided Love, One-Sided Mexico/China, Yao just wants everyone to be happy, spades
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-19 05:22:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29621265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiraiLenKun/pseuds/MiraiLenKun
Summary: "❝The Queen loved the King, but the King was in love with the Ace and the Ace only had eyes for the Jack who loved the kingdom of Spades.❞
Relationships: America/England (Hetalia), America/Mexico (Hetalia), Mexico/China
Kudos: 5





	Unilateral

**Author's Note:**

> The author has no regrets. I love writing angst and I got tired of all the Cardverse fanfics being so repetitive. Because I believe that if fate existed, it would not be merciful as it doesn't care about time, distance, gender, race or religion; it also doesn't care if that person is in love with someone else, it doesn't care how painful it is that you comply with what he wants and ultimately it won't magically reunite you with what you want.

"Just because love is unrequited, doesn't mean it's not true."

[ ... ]

**QUEEN**

Many street stalls took the opportunity to sell merchandise for the celebration. Boys and girls sang along with strangers the kingdom's anthem. Adults had their cheeks flushed from the alcohol in their blood rhyming and dancing in the streets. Blue and silver balloons were released into the air to the tunes of merry musicians.

Crowds of people crowded around the church of the capital of Spades, although none of the civilians were allowed to enter the coronation of the new royal family. At least they wished to give their good wishes to their future rulers. Some did so by throwing flowers or petals, some by shouting their congratulations and others by waving small flags of the kingdom to a once in a lifetime event.

A platoon of Spadian guards guarded the great gates of the sacred temple. And inside is where the coronation of the new king and queen was taking place.

The venomous comments of the nobility directed at the future queen were silenced by the future king. His husband for a few weeks with whom he would rule by his side for the rest of his life. His soul mate by the mark that intertwined their destinies.

Arthur Kirkland paraded down the blue carpet with violet borders, nerves eating at his stomach as he was watched by the court and nobility, but he did not let this influence his gait. At his side, Alfred F. Jones, kept his blue gaze fixed on the altar where an old priest awaited them along with Wang Yao, the Jack of Spades and Rosalia Cordova, the Ace of Spades, who carried the crowns on a violet cushion with silver borders.

Dressed in the ceremonial costumes of choice, albeit customized for their assigned role; with a large navy blue cape with gold pike-shaped jewels intertwined between them. They looked worthy of royalty even without wearing their crowns. 

I couldn't believe I was there, about to be crowned Queen. One moment he was being chased by the royal guard. Taunting and taunting them through the narrow alleys of the city. All his life being insulted for his low social status, disowned for taking up an undignified profession to put food on the table and spending months under the scorching sun on a ship leading his crew looking to steal juicy loot.

He was then escorted to the palace to be identified as the next queen of Spades creating chaos that delayed this moment. He was born in Diamonds and was now to be the queen of another kingdom.

Fate was certainly an ironic and cruel force with them.

When they finally reached the altar, the priest smiled kindly at them before looking at the audience and raising his voice.

“Good morning, court of Spades and dear nobles. This day is one of celebration, our Gods have sent us our new guides. People of honor, of great leadership and genuine heart for their people. Fate has chosen them, as it has always been in the mighty kingdom of Spades that has stood firm in the face of adversity thrown at us. Even in these difficult times we can proudly say that we have not been brought down and this day is proof of that.”

The priest took the King's crown from the cushion held by Rosalia. A polished golden crown that had survived the test of time. Its blue jewels glittered in the light coming through the stained glass windows creating little rainbows.

Alfred knelt down, bowing his head until his head almost touched the ground.

“Alfred Fitzgerald Jones, destiny has chosen you. When you take this crown you will not only be taking the title of King, you will assume the weight of an entire people who will be loyal to you and you must honor them with justice and honesty. Do you swear to be honest and fair with your people?”

“I swear,” affirmed the young man.

“Do you swear to give your life to your kingdom?”

“I swear,” he repeated louder.

“Do you swear to support your Queen, respect your Jack and take care of your Ace?”

“I swear.”

“By the power vested in me and the blessing of the Gods, we declare you King Alfred FitzGerald Jones, King of Spades. Long live King Alfred!”

The room exploded in scattered choruses of "Long live King Alfred! Especially from the court who smiled and cheered for his royal highness much to the chagrin of the nobility who sat on the opposite side of the room trying to ignore those of humble origins. Arthur bit his lips to keep from laughing in the face of the reserved nobles. Some of them he had stolen a few bags of gold from in the past. 

He knelt as he saw the priest now take the queen's crown from the cushion Yao was holding.

“Arthur Kirkland, by taking this crown you will be swearing to accompany the King in his duties until the end of your days, to perform his duties and to love your people unconditionally. You will abandon your former life to welcome this one that destiny has granted you. Do you swear to be loyal and kind to your kingdom?”

“I swear,” Arthur spoke trying to hide the trembling in his voice.

“Do you swear to die for your people?”

“I swear,” Arthur increased the volume of his voice, swallowing saliva mentally scolding himself for his crazy nerves.

“Do you swear to be loyal to your King, respect your Jack and take care of your Ace?”

“I swear.”

“By the power vested in me and the blessing of the Gods, we declare you Queen Arthur Kirkland, Queen of Spades. Long live Queen Arthur!”

As on the previous occasion, the court cheered his name with that title with enthusiasm. He glanced at his now King, who gave him a cordial smile and then indicated with his eyes that it was now the turn of the oaths of his Jack and Ace. Arthur smiled back and went on with the ceremony.

Yao knelt before them dressed in a white shirt over a mauve vest with a long black coat with purple details, with equally black pants with white boots.

“I, Wang Yao the Jack of Spades, swear allegiance to you for the rest of my life. I swear to serve efficiently and perform my duties with excellence to assist you in your government. I swear that as long as I am with you, you can rest assured that I will be a reliable companion. I vow to accompany you in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, and even in death I will remain by your side in spirit. This is my eternal promise to you, King Alfred F. Jones and Queen Arthur Kirkland.”

Yao stood looking up with a serene face, extended his hand towards the Ace of Spades. 

Rosalia was the one who knelt with her silver iron armor on with that long blue cloak with spade decorations that did not hide the sword in its scabbard that hung at her waist. Her short auburn hair decorated with a diamond spade brooch contrasted perfectly with her crystal earrings.

“I, Rosalia Cordova Garcia, solemnly swear that I will give my life to protect you. I swear that, through hell and heaven, I will stand by your side as your loyal companion. I swear to light their path to greatness in their reign. I swear that you will not fear the edge of the sword for I will protect you at any cost. And if in another life we meet as King, Queen and Ace, my oath will still stand. This is my soul promise to you, King Alfred F. Jones and Queen Arthur Kirkland.”

They all gathered side by side at the altar. Feeling their mark burn on their skin and the sunlight coming through the stained glass windows that illuminated the blond hair of the King of Spades causing it to glow and form a halo of light; stealing his breath away. 

What the hell? Kirkland, focus! 

Ignoring the trembling of his heart, he preferred to focus on what he should be doing.

Queen Arthur placed his right hand in the center of the circle the four of them formed, Alfred did the same as did their now faithful companions of the deck reciting in unison the watchword of their home.

“For honor!”

“For power!”

“For the future!

“For the Kingdom of Spades!”

So the four of them marked their destiny. 

Unfortunately, fate has never taken into account the love among its chosen ones. The reason for the open secret of the countless lovers who were never missing behind the castle walls. 

Love was not part of their lives. A destiny that caused many broken hearts and anguish. That is the reason for our story.

[ ... ]

“Are you serious?”

Arthur frowned looking at his husband who was smiling with the strength of a thousand suns. Ugh, he seriously wanted this to stop since when was he so damn poetic about someone's features?

“Why not?” Alfred shrugged.

“Not that it's a bad idea, but you're aware that the nobles won't be... pleased,” expressed the monarch continuing to sign the pending documents.

“And since when do you care what they think? You were a pirate!” contradicted the younger one sounding somewhat irritated.

Yes, he was a pirate, past tense. He didn't have a good image in front of those unpleasant people he unfortunately needed on his side to execute his duties well. Because Arthur Kirkland must be the best in his role, nothing by halves.

“I didn't say I didn't agree with ....” he paused, “What did you call it?”

“A charity fair!” exclaimed the boy with his eyes shining, “It's an effective plan of citizens living with each other to shake conservative hard heads a bit and it would raise money for the kingdom's hospitals. They were pretty bad from the floods last year. And fairs are fun.”

Arthur gave it some thought admitting the king had a good point. 

“Is it feasible?” asked the queen.

“The idea came from Yao, though he didn't tell me directly. Rosalia told me that Yao told her that he missed eating caramel apples at the fairs, but they haven't been organized for years and in fact there was always a budget to organize one in the capital, but the previous monarchs didn't bother to use those funds,” explained Alfred almost out of breath.

“So, the idea came from one of his complaints,” commented the older man skeptically, remembering the tobacco addicted Jack.

“Well, I don't blame him. Drinking bitter tea all the time would make anyone want to take a bite out of a caramel apple,” vociferated the King of Spades sitting squarely on the sofa in front of his husband's desk. His gaze strayed for a few seconds to the balcony.

“Yao loves tea,” said Arthur sharply. Personally he loved the tea Yao prepared on those nights when they stayed up to complete the work. As Queen and Jack it was normal for them to spend a lot of time together, though of course in the company of members of the court. “I like tea.”

Alfred snorted “And wouldn't you prefer some sugar, your majesty.”

Arthur narrowed his gaze, noticing Alfred's mocking connotation all too well.

“It is not my fault that your vulgar palate is not capable of processing the exquisite taste of a good tea,” the queen said, adjusting his hat.

“Roasted coffee is better,” contradicted the king closing his eyes with a smile, as when you remember something that brings you joy.

“Surely he is thinking about the coffee drowned in whipped cream at breakfast" thought the green-eyed man remembering Alfred's expression of taste when he ate pancakes and coffee without any kind of manners.

Yao gave a resigned sigh and arranged the hairpins of Rosalia who commented that he looked like a piggy with glasses, starting a small discussion between the Ace and the king, she excused herself that she said it with love, but it ended with Alfred making a drama to the girl with the spade hairpins well arranged.

“I'm not going to get into an argument about which is better," said Arthur, putting his pen down, "Did you finish your paperwork?”

Alfred's eyes widened abruptly. He rushed to the exit of his office.

“Yao is going to kill me!

Arthur smirks, leaning back in his chair, taking a short break from his work. 

As night fell at Spades, the activity was much less. There was almost no movement in the corridors; only the guards roaming around. Arthur spent years watching his neck for his enemies. He knew exactly when someone was watching him in the shadows.

“There is no need for you to hide,” Arthur called, “Walk beside me like what you are.”

“And what am I to your majesty?”

The young female voice echoed down the empty hallway. Arthur smiled knowing who it was, even though he rarely heard her voice.

It was that woman in silver armor with that ancestral sword that has been passed down from successor to successor hanging from her waist. So strong on the outside being the strength of the army, but who would fall apart in a blushing mess every time she managed to make the Jack laugh.

“As my equal," the man assured.

The woman fell gracefully beside him. She probably spied on him from the high ceilings where the light didn't reach.

“I was taught that I must protect his majesty at all times,” Rosalia explained.

“You can do it by my side,” concluded Arthur offering his arm causing the brown-skinned girl to raise her eyebrow.

“I am supposed to escort you,” she smiled slyly.

Arthur felt the need to roll his eyes at Rosalia's reluctant attitude.

“I am a gentleman before I am your majesty, my dear lady,” he rebutted.

She gave it some thought. On the one hand, she should be the escort not the escorted, but on the other hand it was Queen Arthur who wanted to do it and she couldn't just tell him no. She didn't really know him much, not like she did Alfred and Yao. If it had been anyone from the court or the kings of other kingdoms she would surely turn them down without hesitation. I end up accepting his queen's request.

“I'm afraid we have never been given the opportunity to talk properly, your majesty,” confessed Rosalia after a few minutes of silent walking.

“That's because you must be at the side of his majesty, the king. It is your duty after all,” she reasoned.

“Still, we will work together for the rest of our lives.”

“That's true,” Arthur looked at her auburn hair in a ponytail with two hairpins with a spike decorating it. “I wish we could talk less formally, I've been like this for weeks now and I'm starting to get annoyed.”

Rosalia breathed a big sigh of relief with an exasperated groan.

“Thank you God,” Rosalia thanked him, laughing a little.

“I guess you're not usually so formal,” he deduced.

“Nope,” she confessed “It's annoying to be like ¨My person is not at ease in this enclosure¨ I only do it with the nobles or when Yao tells me that I must keep the image of the formal and cold Ace with the others. I prefer to be in the training camp with the rookies.”

Arthur felt better about the new environment. Now that he thought about it, his office had a limited view of the field, Alfred's had a perfect view.

“Actually, some of them are quite fun for me to deal with," the blond admitted.

“Really? What makes them interesting?”

“That I robbed them and now they have to kiss my feet,” he bragged.

Rosalia got a huge smile expressing her admiration, “Fuck, I wish I had that satisfaction. They used to complain about you a lot.”

“I guess about my exploits with them,” asked Arthur.

“You can't imagine! The bastard did this, stole my boat, seduced my niece right under my nose. And now they must serve him. The irony can be so cruel to some people.”

Arthur smiled slyly, “And so accommodating to others.”

“Do you still have the coat?” she asked looking like a child meeting her lifelong hero.

It was hard to believe that the young woman in front of him had been exposed by the horrors of war and blood with that glowing aura she carried.

“Of the few things I was allowed to keep. And it wasn't exactly out of consideration,” Arthur spoke.

Rosalia smiled, “I think you look very good in that color. You would look sexy,” she pointed out.

“I can't wear red anymore,” Arthur snorted although he was pleased by the compliment, “If I wore it, they would demand that I wear something more suitable for the Queen of Spades.”

“It's because they have no taste," said Rosalia, "Red is a beautiful color.

“It's a beautiful color that inspires respect,” reasoned Arthur.

She shrugged her shoulders agreeing with him.

“My queen, for years I spent years chasing records to find information in my home kingdom. And I got the surprise that you're from the fucking Diamonds,” she pouted, “All because you were wearing red. Why the fuck do we have a color dress system for each kingdom? Easily if I wore green - boom! I'm a native of Clubs.”

Rambles a lot, thought Arthur although he stored that color thing in his earrings. They had to get a better grip on migration and citizenship change.

“Being a ghost is the best way not to get caught,” said Arthur pretending innocence.

“And stealing,” she nodded “Stealing many cargoes from the ports of the kingdom.”

“They do it so easily,” he mocked winning an indignant gasp, “And that's why I'm here to keep them from stealing from us.”

They both stood outside the queen's suite with Rosalia reluctantly nodding at her queen's comment. There were four suites on that entire floor of the Palace. The King's, Queen's, Jack's and Ace's, although that information never made it into the books. 

Even though Alfred and Arthur were married, they did not sleep in the same room. Some earlier monarchs did. 

It was King Alfred who most objected to sharing a room. Causing a quarrel among the noble faction who insisted that they had to keep up appearances even before the servants. Alfred resolved it by inventing a confidentiality contract to the employees of the castle and crown estates that anyone who said anything would be severely punished.

Arthur felt somewhat rejected by her husband, although he didn't really care whether he slept in company or alone.

“I would like you to tell me about your life as a pirate,” said Rosalia with admiration seeping into her voice, “Only if you want to!”

Arthur nodded, “It would be nice to have someone to terrorize.”

The two smiled at each other in mutual friendship.

“Good night, Rosalia.”

“Good night, Arthur. See you tomorrow.”

The door to the queen's suite was inlaid with a dark blue Q made of obsidian. As we entered the room the light tinged the walls white as silver porcelain. The ceiling filled with painted stars with a beautiful chandelier made of white gold matching the blue curtains of the large accordion windows. A coffee table with two cushioned chairs for drinking tea. Beautiful wooden furniture of the highest quality held her belongings such as silver clocks, first edition books from the Palace library, porcelain decorations of historical figures and a lot of luxurious things that would surely be worth more than the house she grew up in.

The huge bed of purple and white sheets was one of his favorite luxuries.

It was soft, but not excessively so.

Arthur began to take off his clothes. He lay naked and drifted off into the arms of Morpheus.

[---]

“A total of 800 thousand was raised for the hospitals on the east coasts,” Yao reported to the Eight of Spades, Sadiq.

Arthur liked the charity fair very much, the hanging lights that were wrapped in colored papers, the food stalls from various parts of the kingdom, the people dancing to the music of the musicians who traveled to support the cause, the merchants who lived among them to establish relationships between them, the games for the children who huddled around Rosalia who, contrary to getting nervous, played with them with enthusiasm along with Yao who seemed to be familiar with the intensity of the Ace and the infants.

Alfred insisted on dancing with him along with the villagers and, pouting, managed to convince him to enter into a group dance with the citizens. The gyrations, the slips and the smiles he shared with the common people was in fact his favorite moment of the whole festivity. 

Not that they hadn't danced before, but those were formal occasions where Alfred only got as close as necessary without seeking intimate contact. He attributed it to the young monarch's shyness in this matter of destined souls.

His king's voice asking if he enjoyed it seeking his comfort with his perfect smile. His beautiful laughter etched in her memory. The colored lights illuminated them both in that instant when they shared a dance to be taken by the rhythm of the moving song. Arthur couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment, but he knew the dance was like that, constantly changing partners. 

It was foolish to get angry.

Yao indicated that the auction of handcrafted objects would begin once the dance was over and they began to dance in pairs in a quiet waltz.

Alfred left with Rosalia who was holding a pile of caramel apples and fried food which they shared with them. The king and the Ace spent some time arguing about why fried ice cream was superior to a chilaquil en ahogada. But it was hard to tell if they were really arguing about food because the thread of conversation between them jumped from topic to topic relentlessly for hours.

“Congratulations to all of you for achieving the goal, without you this would never have been possible!” shouted passionately the King of Spades earning smiles and gestures accepting the compliment.

Alfred continued speaking loudly (almost shouting) although he was now sitting with Arthur sitting to his left and Rosalia to his right. The two looked at each other with a feeling of mutual understanding. 

“I wish she would stop shouting,” Yao muttered clutching his head. He found himself next to the queen wallowing in his misery.

That's right. Yao got drunk on baijiu and Rosalia had to carry him like a bride to his suite. His hangover must be legendary.

“Drink more, it takes the hangover away,” advised the Ace looking at him sweetly.

Whether she was joking or not was up for debate. She tended to troll them whenever she could.

The Jack looked at her skeptically.

“Uh-huh,” he merely said.

“Es neta. It always works for me,” she affirmed, “I'm not trolling you this time, I swear.

“Just ask the doctor to give you something,” said the Queen patting her friend's back.

“That sounds like a better idea,” agreed Yao causing a snort from the woman.

Rosalia's mouth is puckered like a little girl looking at Yao who just looks at her somewhat amused.

“You look like a little squirrel," commented the black-haired man.

“Who are you calling a midget that you can't even see under the microscope?” exploded the one with golden eyes calling the attention of the Three and Six of Spades, Zachary Monroe and Manuel Gonzalez Rojas they laughed quietly accustomed to those outbursts of their boss.

“I never said that," he rolled his eyes, adjusting the feather in his hat, "You should be annoyed by the squirrel comment. Squirrels are cute, though.”

“I'm not little, you're not one to talk,” she complained stumbling over her words nervously. Yao was only a few inches taller. 

The three of them were startled when a hand crashed between Yao and Rosalia.

“But I do, my Ace.”

The three of them looked up at Alfred's tall figure with that smile he always had plastered on his face, slightly tense at the corners of his mouth. 

Rosalia's cheeks red with anger in less than three seconds, “Don't you dare.”

“Don't you?”

“Don't do it,” she warned.

“But I want to,” he continued with his eyes shining in a sweet voice.

“Well, you know the consequences," Yao butted in.

The members of the court hid under their desks, betting that he would Ace their King.

“You are as small as a bean," said Alfred running over the desks causing the surprised screams of his court with Rosalia chasing him with murderous intentions insulting him with phrases "Son of your goddamn father, come back I won't do anything to you or I will break your legs so you stop running away. ¨

“She has heavy feet!” shouted the One of Spades, Raul Narvaez under his desk.

“Just wait until the beast calms down,” shouted the Ten, Young Soo who laughed pitilessly while the meeting room was destroyed by both leaders with the poor Seven of Spades trying to mediate. Matthias had no sense of conservation.

“Are you really not going to do anything?” asked Dylan, the nine of Spades to his younger brother.

“They're going to pick up their dumpster later,” Arthur replied, plotting his revenge against those two idiots.

Arthur didn't let the smile that was struggling to come out.

[***]

Over the next few months Arthur and Alfred saw each other more often and being honest with himself Arthur found Alfred's presence... not as annoying as at first. 

He was an enthusiastic, intelligent, persevering, astute person with a big heart for the people he cared about. His blond hair that he bet was soft, blue eyes of a shade he couldn't find a word to describe them with, his fair skin tanned by his sports hobbies and his smile that was capable of conveying everything from politeness to kindness.

He felt he had found someone he... truly came to love. For that was the magic of the marks of king and queen, both were brought together by destiny to rule with their love the kingdom they were entrusted to protect.

They strolled among the blue rose gardens telling stories of their former lives. Or telling about their siblings.

“Wait, you have a brother?”

Arthur was frankly surprised. He had never heard of the existence of the King of Spades' brother. Now that he thought about it, Alfred had really only described his life at the Palace, never about before he was marked by fate.

“Yes, his name is Matthew but he doesn't live in Spades.”

“Where does he live?”

“At Diamonds since we were separated.”

Arthur decided it would be best not to pry into that matter based on Alfred's tense expression. He wouldn't press him.

“Have you visited your brothers?” asked the king.

“Not much. Alistair loves to tease me every chance he gets and the others do nothing, what's more Seamus and Patrick join him and Dylan is the only one who tries to treat me well,” Arthur snorted, “I might as well have them executed whenever I want and they're still idiots.”

Alfred laughed, “No, you wouldn't, even if you had to.”

“And why do you say that? I'm perfectly capable,” I grumble.

“Because you're always looking for a way to make it all work out," Alfred commented, "I'm sure the only reason you became a pirate wasn't for the thrill, but for them. “

Arthur felt his face redden. He felt that familiar tingle in the pit of his stomach.

“Well?”

“What are you talking about?” Arthur stammered without looking at him.

“I'm talking about whether I'm right,” Arthur swore that in his voice there was some exasperated fondness woven into his words.

Arthur pressed his lips together admitting that his deduction was correct having an incompressible urge to push the blond locks away from Alfred's forehead.

Which caused Alfred to smile somewhat arrogantly. Take that thought back, now Arthur wanted to take a swing at him. 

“You think too highly of me,” said Arthur taking one of the blue roses being careful of the thorns.

“I'm just saying what I've managed to observe.”

Alfred had his back to him, walking among the countless roses in the full glare of their beauty, oblivious to his queen's blush.

“I never thought I would actually see one of these roses in person - he stroked the petals of the rose catching the attention of the other man who turned to look at him, “They only bloom in this garden.”

“I like the red ones from Hearts better,” commented the king.

Arthur raised an eyebrow, "I don't think it's fair to look down on blue roses like that.”

“Don't get me wrong, I like them, I just like the red or yellow ones better.”

In Alfred's personal opinion, he thought they already had too many blue things in the kingdom. Another color wouldn't hurt.

“I guess it's because you don't know about the history of Spades roses," replied the queen.

“Do they have a legend?” Alfred asked, genuinely interested.

“I guess you don't care for stories," thought Arthur.

“When the first king and queen of Spades were crowned, the king was looking for a special gift for his queen. He looked up and down, from left to right, asking his subjects what gift could do justice to the mother of the empire, but no answer satisfied him or seemed worthy enough. Until an old magician suggested that he could turn the roses blue, though his only condition was that he must get her five pounds of sapphires.”

Queen Arthur was pleased to have Alfred's undivided attention.

“The court objected, thinking that the magician only wanted to take advantage of the king.

“And they were right?” he interrupted.

“Let me continue," he scolded, "The king ignored the court's warnings and got what he needed. When the old magician arrived at the palace, he took in his hands a handful of sapphires. A great amount of light burst forth from the man's hands and from it was born a beautiful blue rose so bright and fragile that it seemed to transform the gems into delicate petals. The king asked him to create entire rose bushes from this rose in exchange for the old magician to live in the palace. So the king's love for his queen lives on in every rose in the garden.”

Alfred stood silently looking at Arthur and the roses. He scratched his head to say:

“Why with sapphires?”

Arthur blinked in confusion at the question, “I beg your pardon?”

“I asked why with sapphires because not onyx, emeralds, rubies or opals.”

God, this kid asked the weirdest questions.

“Because blue represents eternity. Blue roses symbolize eternal love,” he recited what his mother had told him.

He liked that story very much. It was one of his favorites.

“That makes sense,” concluded Alfred stroking the petals of one of the flowers, thinking in an instant to pluck it, but the blue color didn't really match the person in his mind at all.

On the contrary, Arthur finally managed to find the words that described the color of Alfred's eyes: the blue roses in the garden.

As time passed he began to notice certain details about his king that were repetitive in routine.

He noticed that Alfred liked to be on his balcony. Whenever he had the opportunity he would watch the training camp that was manned by the more experienced fighters or in some cases rookies who were punished for some reason.

Or he had that rare tendency to smile out of nowhere, remembering something he thought was funny. Although the ex-pirate wouldn't say for sure, some of those smiles conveyed a feeling he couldn't put a finger on.

Just then, he saw Alfred walking toward the field where some of the deck members were training.

“Where are you headed?” asked Arthur, stopping Alfred's pace.

“I'm going to watch the training of the guards,” he answered kindly joining his hands, “Do you want to... go?”

The king's gloved hands rubbed together and his face held a nervous smile. Arthur didn't know why her behavior changed quickly when he was around or in certain situations that weren't really stressful. As if he was trying to hide something from him.

Whatever it is, he's really bad at hiding it. Maybe he's worse because he has no idea what it is.

“Yes, I want to see," Arthur agreed.

“E-Excellent!” shouted Alfred excessively loudly.

They both walk with some guards following them from afar towards the field drawing attention right away. They sit in the special stands for them in case of sporting events. The sandy fields with some green areas.

“There it is,” the king points out in an instant. Arthur looks at Rosalia leading a platoon. 

The woman's eyes drift to them, noticing their presence.

“You must at least show off a little," exclaims Rosalia raising a hand towards them, "You don't want to embarrass yourselves in front of their majesties.”

The pairs of eyes fixed on both monarchs with nervousness, pushing and shoving each other to get the unfortunate one who was to be the first. The unfortunate soul was a sturdy soldier without a weapon.

“Go ahead, soldier.”

The man made the first move, lunging at her. Rosalia slid away by putting her foot down causing him to stumble and fall to the ground.

“If your opponent is smaller than you, they are bound to be faster and easily dodge your attacks. Why aren't you carrying weapons? “

“I thought this would be hand-to-hand," explained the soldier with some scratches.

The woman arched an eyebrow, “Never assume something that has not been directly confirmed to you, understood?”

“Yes, my Ace,” nodded the man returning to his companions who pushed out another man carrying a spear and a shield with a good-polished armor with some decorations that gave away that he was someone more experienced.

“Admiral Assan.”

“Ace Cordova.”

The fight began after the salutes.

Rosalia was very skilled. Her fighting steps looked like a planned dance from the moment she set foot on the field swinging her sword as if it were an extension of her body. Her golden eyes flashed in her confident face. Dodging each blow easily just applying the necessary force in each strike.

“She really is special,” Alfred commented to himself.

Green eyes focused on the tender smile plastered on the young king's face. 

Acting like a complete lov....

The sudden compression hits his head...

Arthur, feels like his heart was shattering from the emotional punch he had just received. Confirming his worst fears, many of which he wasn't even aware of until now.

It was, it was so obvious.

He was so blind.

In how Alfred insisted on sitting next to Rosalia and never Yao's, watching the training camp from his balcony every afternoon without fail, the way he spoke to her with a sweetness that was only directed at her, that after every debate between the two of them he looked so happy...so happy it was tangible. That he would interrupt when Yao and Rosalia had physical contact or she got too friendly. The hours they spent talking engrossed in their own world and the king's eyes would light up with unadulterated love and adoration when Rosalia laughed.

He feels bitterness, sadness, pain, but....

Not hate that never comes... because he remembers Alfred's pained eyes when Rosalia smiles lovingly at his Jack. The blond's clenched jaw when Rosalia takes Yao's opinion more to heart than any other, his expression pleading for her to listen to him, to touch him in the same affectionate way she treated the Jack of Spades and to love him with the intensity he did.

Alfred's love was unrequited. Rosalia never responded to his affections. And he hated himself a little by rejoicing in that fact.

What kind of person rejoices that her beloved suffers from one-sided love?

And was there no joy in having been indirectly rejected?

“Arthur?”

His king tapped him on the shoulder. Arthur forced a smile to cover the pain that was growing by the second in his chest. The smile he so adored from Alfred felt like torture. He felt a burn form in his throat, sour tears were gathering in his eyes, the lower lip of his fake smile was beginning to tremble and his legs heavy. He found it hard to breathe calmly, keeping his face neutral was becoming more difficult. Oh, no. No, no, no, no, don't cry, not now. Stay strong, you are stronger.

No one has ever died of love and he wouldn't be the first to do so. He wouldn't cry...

Alfred was still there, having no idea that Arthur was collapsing beside him.

“I have to go,” he spoke with a lump in his throat.

Alfred changed his look from confusion to concern.

“Are you all right?”

“I just... I have to go. See you at dinner,” each word came out with great effort to sound normal.

Nothing was wrong, Arthur was fine. I just wanted to get out of there.

“Are you really okay?” His concern hurt him. The way he treated and talked to him was never that of a lover, but that of a friend.

“I just remembered that I have to supervise some preparations,” lied Arthur standing up from his chair.

He ignored the guards walking beside him. His steps became faster. He was no longer walking. He was running, dodging the servants and the guards who were speaking words that made no sense to his racing mind. 

He slipped on the waxed floor or the carpets that crumpled in his wake.

He slammed the door shut on the suite taking a series of inhalations and exhalations with his eyes burning. He swallowed grunting in pain from the dryness in his throat. Of course he was thirsty, he ran from the field across half the palace to lock himself in his room.

Being overcome by his feelings, tears begin to wet his cheeks. He emits gasps of pain letting out his suffering and heartbreak. Anger seeps from his pores, questioning where he failed, what he did wrong for his king not to be in love with him... fate brought them together. 

All kings and queens had loved each other intensely, just as they loved their kingdom.

He was his queen!

He must love him!

The king is supposed to love the queen and vice versa!

What did she have that he didn't? 

Was he so undesirable?

Why? 

Why? 

Why?

He must have been the love of his life!

He couldn't understand it. 

“Your Majesty,” there was a knock at the door. The voice of the Ten of Spades, Im Young Soo.

He coughed a little trying to erase the traces of his crying.

“What do you want?”

“Your Majesty, I bring tea," he said as if that were enough.

“Go away," he ordered bluntly.

He didn't flinch, “My queen, I know you have realized the king's feelings.”

His voice did not express pity, but a confession of a truth that no one spoke of very often.

Arthur felt another thorn of pain. Alfred had never called him, his queen.

He opened the door with anger in his eyes coming face to face with Young Soo who looked at him with a seriousness unusual for the energetic boy. The slit-eyed boy held up the tray containing a metal teapot and a porcelain cup with a flower pattern.

“Did you know?! Did everybody know?!” he asked without trying to contain his indignation and embarrassment questioning himself if everyone knew and he was the idiot immersed in his own world who overlooked the signs of a young man in love.

Young Soo nodded passing by Arthur's side and closing the door with his foot. Without asking permission, nor treating him like an imposing figure. Placing the tray on the table near his bookcase.

“Tell me! Why...?” slow down his voice even in front of the closed door, not wanting to turn around.

“Why has "your soul mate" fallen in love with someone else?” Young Soo completed, pouring the green tea into the modest cup.

“What did I do wrong?” Arthur grabbed his hair, shaking, unwilling to move. Until the young man grabbed his shoulders and guided him to sit on the soft chair.

Young Soo shook his head, “You have done nothing wrong. Alfred has loved her since before you set foot in the palace. The soul mate thing was something that was invented millennia ago.”

Arthur turned his head towards the Ten of Spades so fast that for a second it looked like his neck would break.

“What are you talking about?” the monarch muttered in fright.

“Fate doesn't choose kings for love,” Young Soo clarified, “It only chooses them because they are what the kingdom needs at that moment. He will choose a warrior king if we are at war and a diplomatic queen who will support the people, to give balance. It doesn't matter to him if they were married to someone else, that they have different ideologies or that their personalities clash.”

“Y-you mean-that... all those stories between the kings?”

The younger one interrupted, “Lies, many of them had mistresses.”

Arthur covered his mouth with his hand. In disbelief that all those people in the portraits that adorned the halls of Spades Palace had been just a lie of millennia.

Smiles of oil paintings that were just a facade of happiness. An image idealized by so many people.

“Does the king know?” Arthur felt a sting in his vocal cords. Clutching the cup without feeling the warmth that soaked into his hands.

“Yes," Young Soo answered, looking away from the green eyes.

“So I was a game," Arthur began to say.

“It's not like that, your majesty!” denied Young Soo, “None of us expected you to fall in love with him. Alfred just acted like himself, he never played with you.”

“But I did!” he shouted, “I-I did.”

Young Soo stood quietly, quite uncomfortable with his queen's blank stare into her tea. He decided it was a good time to leave.

“Until tomorrow, your majesty.”

The door closed with a silent click. Arthur sat staring at his distorted reflection in the green liquid.

“ I love you,” he confessed tightening his grip on the cup, his throat burning with helplessness, “I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you. Love me.”

He was always a hopeless romantic who fantasized about his prince in shining armor like in the stories his mother told him as a child who was impressed by those words sprinkled with dust of unreal fantasies. The love that united two soul mates who met after a long journey of self-discovery to live a happy life and a blossoming infatuation that would be written in the gold and leather books of fairy tales that would be told to future generations.

But the fairy tale is not real.

He let himself be won over by the repeated phrases of hope whispered in his ear. He believed that he would see it for what it was, that he would love him unconditionally like the previous king and queen couples. Now he wondered how many of those couples actually loved each other, how many had someone else on their mind, those who never tasted sweet, intense first love. Or worse, who once had it and had it taken away from them by the mark of fate etched on their skin.

Because that was the reality. Their reality.

King Alfred was in love, but it wasn't with his queen. He was not in love with him. 

Arthur ignored the tear that fell into his bitter tea.


End file.
